M Is For
by I.M. Kingfisher
Summary: Mail Jeevas is your regular high schooler until he gets stuck inside the world of Death Note, and the only way out is… well, that's something he's still trying to figure out. MattxMello


**Title**: M Is For  
**Author**: I.M. Kingfisher  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Death Note.

**Author's Note**: Finally! My first posted work of fanfiction, I'm so excited :) It's gonna be primarily MattxMello, but there will also be scenes of L/Light later on and some Near thrown in the mix. Enjoy!

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**Prologue**

Mail Jeevas eyed the back of his classmate, noting sweat seeping around the words 'Bite Me'. Man, was it hot. The school's AC was conveniently broken that week, too, and everyone was melting.

The red-head fidgeted in his seat and felt his own shirt beginning to stick to his back. If only the teacher let them out early, then he and his classmates would be free to go home and strip naked. Man, did he want to get naked. Everyone did, except for Wendy, of course, who sat upright in the front row untouched by the heat, head bobbing up and down to the teacher's lecture on the anatomy of the endangered sea otter.

On an entirely different note though, the heat wave combined with the solar eclipse over Vietnam and the 5.2 on the Richter Scale earthquake in New Delhi and the spinning of the earth and sea otters and Mail's exact location at that very moment (the back row of Biology II) created a tear in the flux of time and teleported the unsuspecting boy to an alternative universe.

Some people just have the worst luck.

----

Considering a universe-time-skip phenomenon just occurred, there was nothing particularly out of place. Perhaps you had expected our protagonist to explode, but alas, Mail's vesicle of organs and tissue and brain matter were still intact.

Indeed, everything seemed normal, as Mail was still seated in a classroom. The main difference being that said classroom was now filled with intense, orphaned, genius (genius like those kids in India) tweens.

When Mail finally realized he was no longer in Classroom 2-3, he jumped out of his seat with a loud "Oh my gawd!" His out-of-place British accent and several decibels higher voice would not register until later.

"Matt, we went over this problem yesterday. It shouldn't be surprising in the least. Please, sit down." The man in front of the classroom waited patiently.

Mail was so confused. Weren't they talking about sea otters a second ago, and who was this old bag of bones, that wasn't his teacher, and where was he, just what the hell was going on?!

"What did you call me?" Mail asked instead.

Everyone turned around to look at him in irritation. It hit him, then, like a cold bucket of water or all those times he pulled into the garage but then exclaimed '_Dammit,' _because he forgot to buy milk. Of course! He was on that funny albeit lame TV show _'You got Prank'ed!' _and all his friends were in on it!

"_Wow_. Aha. Ok, you guys got me. Real funny, laugh it up people, shit, I almost shit myself." Mail stood akimbo, grin in full display. "Man, what the hell is up with my voice, did you guys put something in my lunch earlier?"

"...," replied the class. Some blonde boy spat chunks of chocolate all over himself. Ugh, kids are so messy.

"C'mon people, don't be sore losers. Friends, you can come out now, I've figured out the surprise! I bet I dozed off, and then the camera crew snuck in all these brats. Gah, I can't wait until I get home and tell the rents! I'm gonna be the talk of the town!" Mail finished with an emphatic punch to the air.

Eyes pinned to the excited red-head, the professor slowly lowered the chalk to his side. "Matt... what is the meaning of this?"

Mail was about to protest the dumb nickname, but then the teacher took a few wary steps forward, and the mirror that was no longer blocked from view reflected the boy in his entirety, and _it's a trick mirror,_ because he looked like he was 14 again, but everyone's reflection looked the same, so why only his, and how could this be.

And then, he fainted.

----

Mail awoke to the smell of antiseptic and the sight of white-washed walls. The teacher must have carried him to the infirmary. How embarrassing. Sitting up from the bed, the boy/man swung his legs over the side, and groggily attempted to stand. Rubbing grit from his eyes, Mail stumbled towards the sink to splash coldness on his foggy brain.

Turning on the faucet, he looked up into the mirror and promptly fainted.

----

The second time Mail woke up, he was once again atop the bed in the infirmary. His dreams were always so freaking weird.

Mail let out a big yawn, sat up, and then fainted because standing in front of him was the blonde chocolate-munching youngster, smirking and holding up a mirror.

----

The third time Mail woke up, his first thoughts were _bastard _and _hate kids, _but he had forgotten who and why. He heard people bickering outside the room.

"Mello! Just what were you thinking!" The man's voice was muffled. Mail skunk closer and leaned his ear against the door. "Something is obviously bothering Matt, and you're not helping any." _'Pwat' _went the sound of someone getting hit over the head. "I thought the two of you were friends."

"Ow, there's no need to hit me!" the other person, presumably Mello, spat. _'Munch, munch.'_ "We _are_ friends, I just thought it'd be funny, and besides, he's the one you should be mad at, spouting all that nonsense in the middle of class!"

And finally, much like the inevitability of babies being born, Mail remembered the last horrible 40 minutes. For the fourth time, he fainted, but only briefly, because the story must go on.

Mail's/Matt's gasp alerted the two outside that he was awake, and the one named Mello flung open the door and stepped inside.

It was the kid from earlier who spat chocolate all over himself and waited for Mail to wake up with a mirror on hand. _Bastard! _Just what was going on? Matt was terrified, and everyone knew because the beat of his heart was deafening, and Mail wanted to look down to see if it was visibly pumping, visibly protruding out from underneath his chest, but if he did look, he'd notice a 14-year-old body instead of a 19-year-old one, so instead he looked everywhere but down.

"Matt," Mello said.

_That damn name again. _"The name's Mail, and I don't know you, so just - back off!" Matt took a frightened step back.

Bright blue eyes narrowed in anger. "What the hell is wrong with-" A silencing hand fell on Mello's shoulder, cutting him off, and the old man from before, from when everything began to go crazy and wrong, took a step forward, closing the distance once more.

"Mail, right?" His voice was raspy, but gentle. "How about you come into my office? My name is Roger, and I'm the... caretaker of this place. I'm sure you'd like a hot cup of tea." The man smiled, and Mail thought he'd make a good grandpa, one that spoiled all his grandkids and was loved by everyone.

Roger held out a hand, and Mail, being 14 again, grabbed it unquestioningly. No words were spoken as the two made their way down the hall, steps unhurried, and Mello followed silently from behind, glaring sulkily at their backs.

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**A/N: **Aw, poor, oblivious Matt! But he's in for a great adventure, so things will liven up for him soon! Short chappie, I know, but this is just the prologue, so look forward to lots more! Thank you for reading, and please please please review! It will be very much appreciated :)

Until next time! It's gonna get exciting!


End file.
